


i’d do anything for a taste of you

by laehys



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Bottom Lee Jeno, Coming Untouched, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Jealousy, M/M, Masochism, Multi, Murder, Possessive Behavior, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Rough Sex, Sadism, Switch Na Jaemin, Top Huang Ren Jun, Unhealthy Relationships, Unreliable Narrator, Unsafe Sex, Worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:20:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25172263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laehys/pseuds/laehys
Summary: “Don’t get close to him,” Donghyuck hisses between his teeth, voice low. “Don’t get close to him and the other one who hangs around him. Don’t look at them, don’t talk with them, don’t ask others about them.”There’s a pause, but then Jeno chuckles. “What?”or: Renjun and Jaemin are fucked up people and Jeno is fascinated.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Jeno, Huang Ren Jun/Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin, Huang Ren Jun/Na Jaemin
Comments: 49
Kudos: 267





	i’d do anything for a taste of you

**Author's Note:**

> warning: there's mention of blood, murder and violence in general. also unhealthy relationships, unsafe & rough sex.  
> they're not good people and there are no excuses for what they do; they're very well aware of their actions.
> 
> plz don't read if you're triggered by anything that’s on the tags!!
> 
> title is from greta isaac's 'you'

“Did you hear about the new guy?” A female voice asks. Jaemin doesn’t recognize her voice, but he keeps listening, leaning his back against the pillar. “I heard he only got in because of a scholarship.”

“And because Tom is missing,” another female voice adds.

“Tom isn’t missing.” This time is a boy who says that. “He’s dead.”

Jaemin can hear a few gasps, but then a girl’s voice is talking again, “He isn’t… he isn’t… _dead_.” She whispers as if the word was forbidden, something not allowed to be said if it wasn’t under your breath, barely slipping past gritted teeth. “He’s just… missing.”

Tom is dead. Jaemin knows that because he helped carry and bury the body in the middle of the forest, later having to spend minutes trying to clean all the blood and grime from under his fingernails.

He waits for the conversation about the new student to pick up again, but the group starts to trash talk about a teacher, and Jaemin isn’t there, wasting his precious time, to hear that kind of shit.

He peels himself off from the pillar and looks around it once, just to make sure who are the people talking on the other side. It ends up being nobody important, just some random faces he’ll forget in the next minute, so he sets off to another place, thoughts swirling inside his mind.

A student getting in because of a scholarship isn’t anything unusual. But a new student, in the middle of the semester, on a sports scholarship, to take the place of the missing international student? Everyone was talking about it. Everyone wanted to know more about him. Jaemin wasn’t any different, but the information he wanted to get wasn’t about how hot he might be.

He finds Renjun under one of the large oak trees between the Arts Building and the forest. He’s sitting on one of the biggest branches of the tree, the one closest to the floor, and is swinging his feet in the air. He looks entirely too bored, but he’s quick to wipe the expression away when he catches a glance at Jaemin arriving, a pout starting to form on his lips.

“You took so long,” Renjun says as a greeting, his pout becoming more pronounced until Jaemin leans close and pecks him. “Tell me something good.”

“He’s got a scholarship.”

Renjun looks at him for three whole seconds, entirely in silence, before he looks to the side and sighs. Jaemin feels the disappointment setting heavy inside his bones; he should have done a better job.

“Even I know this, darling.” Renjun pats the top of Jaemin’s head, entirely condescending. Jaemin preens under his touch. “Don’t waste your time doing useless shit next time, okay?”

Jaemin nods and pecks him again, unable to resist Renjun and his pretty mouth. It’s impossible. Every time he’s close, Jaemin _needs_ to touch him in some way. Wants to, needs to. Renjun indulges him for a while, breaking apart when he grabs the back of Jaemin’s neck to pull him away, nails craving into the skin. Jaemin shivers.

“Do better. Give me what you know I want.”

Jaemin swipes his tongue over Renjun’s bottom lip, nodding with his head once again. He tries to lean in, but Renjun keeps the hold on his neck and makes him unable to move forward.

“I’m giving you a chance...” It feels like Renjun’s voice is a burning hot liquid being poured inside his veins, running all over his body. Jaemin waits, shoulders aching with the tension of Renjun’s grip. “Don’t disappoint me.”

Renjun relaxes his grasp and Jaemin immediately lunges forward, crashing their lips together. “I won’t,” he breathes inside Renjun’s mouth, fingers clenching tight on the tree branch, a prickling sensation on the tip of his fingers and then, something hot dripping down. “I won’t.”

* * *

It’s a cold, gloomy day like always, but Renjun is smiling brightly and Jaemin thinks his smile could rival the sun. It’s enough to warm him.

They wait behind the Cafeteria, sitting down on one of the few benches. There’s nothing behind the Cafeteria Building besides grass and a single willow tree in the middle of the field, one barely being able to see the empty Visitors Parking zone on the horizon.

The old willow tree is big and imposing, and the new student will want to check it out. Everyone always does. It makes a good Instagram post – the dark weather, the lonely tree; a private university cliché.

So they wait.

Renjun has one leg crossed over the other and a book in hand – it’s bent in half, spine all creased, and in another language. Jaemin doesn’t recognize that alphabet, and he doubts that even Renjun knows, but he’s been in the same position for a few minutes, slowly passing the pages as if he can understand it.

Aesthetics and shit.

Jaemin would love to be laying down with his head on Renjun’s lap, but instead, he’s trying to read someone’s notes from some of his Business-related classes. He doesn’t really know anymore; he has lost the track of things a long time ago and has already given up, but there’s a role he needs to be playing, so he keeps reading the same sentence over and over again, his skin itching to do something different. Waiting. Watching. Itching.

It doesn’t take too long. Renjun brushes his hand through his black hair, his rings shining when they catch up a little of the sun, and Jaemin lifts his head from the notes in his lap to see _him_ walking away from the Cafeteria and going to the willow tree.

It’s always the same. Too predictable.

The guy is exactly what Jaemin expected from a new student in a sports scholarship–smiley, wide-eyed, muscular. He watches the willow tree, touches its branches and leaves, takes some pictures and selfies, all like the awed, newly arrived, student that he is.

Renjun uncrosses his legs. Jaemin looks down at the notes.

The guy looks in their direction when he’s walking back, but Jaemin makes no sign he had seen him.

“Hey,” Renjun says, chirpy. “Everything okay?”

Jaemin sees the new student’s feet stopping right in front of him and turning his body towards Renjun’s direction.

“Yeah, why?”

“You looked a little lost. There’s nothing here besides the tree and the metal gates far, far away,” Renjun says casually, his voice so smooth, so velvet-like, that it makes Jaemin swallow dry. “Are you looking for something specific? You’re the new student, right?”

“Yes, I am. There’s no way to hide something here, huh?” He asks in a jokingly tone. “You’re, like, the fourth person to ask me this just this morning.”

“Oh, really?”

“Uh-huh.” A small pause. “Thanks, but I’m not lost. Well, not _now._ Someone else told me about the tree so I came to check it out.”

“Ah, no worries, then. Things are so far away from each other here that you can’t help but get lost in the beginning, so I was just trying to make sure you’re okay. If anything happens, you can always come to me, okay? I’m Renjun, by the way.”

Jaemin sees from the corner of his vision Renjun getting up from the bench and shaking hands with the guy. He licks his lips in anticipation, the papers in his hands creasing just a little with his grip.

“I’m Jeno. Thanks again, dude. I appreciate it.”

Jaemin finally looks up when Renjun rests his hand on his shoulder. Jeno’s voice has a nice timbre that goes well with his sharp features, and Jaemin knows he’ll be breaking lots of hearts.

He’s dressed in the most casual way that Jaemin ever saw someone be during his years in that university – a sweater and jeans. Among high-end dark-colored clothes and pretentious long coats with sewed insignias, he grabbed people’s attention.

“This is my friend Jaemin. If I’m not around you can go to him–honestly, I think he might know more about things around here than me.”

Jeno chuckles a little, awkwardness brimming between them all, but he smiles politely and shakes Jaemin’s hand.

Jaemin forces a small, shy smile. He eyes Jeno down, trying to get any information it might be useful later. Up close, he can see that Jeno’s broader than he thought–Renjun wouldn’t be able to take him down by himself. That’s something to remember.

Jeno bids them goodbye, muttering something about breakfast and classes, the tip of his ears burning red. They wave at him and watch as he goes. He doesn’t turn back not even once.

It pulses in the air, the tension of a new target, the thrill of a prey leaving, unharmed. Renjun closes his book without marking the page, turning to face Jaemin, his eyes shining bright.

“What do you think?” He asks. He’s not asking for permission or because he cares for Jaemin’s opinion, but just because he enjoys speaking out-loud to a listening audience.

“Pretty eyes. I think he might be a screamer.”

Renjun hums. “I thought just the same.”

A breeze blows and some of the notes in his lap fly away. He doesn’t care about them and lets the wind carry them all. He doesn’t even remember who had lent them to him.

“He’s bigger than I thought, but then, I got you for a reason.” Jaemin feels warmth flooding his chest and he looks at Renjun, concentrating on his every word. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Jaem? Maybe he’s the one.”

The corners of Renjun’s lips curl up, and his eyes are so bright, the bitter wind bringing a pink flush to the top of his cheeks, that Jaemin can’t help but lean forward to kiss him quickly.

Renjun’s intoxicating in every single away. On a normal basis, Jaemin already finds it hard to hold himself back from touching Renjun all the time, but when it’s like this–the glint of his eyes that promise something big coming up later, Jaemin can’t help himself. He can’t. It’s impossible to. 

So he grips Renjun’s thighs, digging his fingers into the soft flesh that’s one layer away from being in contact with his skin, listening as Renjun gives instructions on what to do later. Renjun hates when he kisses him when he’s doing these kinds of talks, so he waits, hanging on every word, waits for the moment he’ll stop just so he can quickly steal a kiss away.

He loves it when Renjun is like this. Loves, loves, loves. He’s fucking blessed to be able to see him up-close in his element, when adrenaline is thrumming through their veins, and Renjun’s holding life in one hand and death on the other. Renjun is his fucking god and he lives to worship him.

* * *

Because Renjun is relying on him, Jaemin makes sure of doing a good job.

He follows Jeno around. Careful to not be seen, to not be heard. He learns his routine, his likes and dislikes, with whom he talks on a regular basis.

Sometimes he sees Renjun starting some small talk with Jeno – Renjun signals with his fingers to make him stop, a small smile on his face, and Jeno halts in his tracks, going towards him. It’s all a façade, only to make Jeno feel at ease in his presence. Jaemin knows well how this all plays out, but still, the sight of Renjun looking up at Jeno as they speak makes his blood boil and Jaemin ends up with clenched fists and marked palms.

He does what Renjun expects of him because he knows he’s good and that’ll make Renjun happy, will make Renjun proud of him. And a happy and satisfied Renjun is what makes _him_ happy.

The worst part of the chase is how he ends up spending less time together with Renjun, but the end result will be worth it. Jaemin needs to keep reminding himself of that. It hurts and it’s awful, but in the end Renjun will be so ecstatic that it’ll all be worth it.

Jeno is too predictable and simple, and everything would be entirely too easy if it wasn’t for that annoying boy who glued himself next to Jeno the moment he arrived – Donghyuck. Just the thought of him makes Jaemin already mad. It’s fucking ridiculous how he’s always snooping around their things.

“What is up with him?”

Jaemin can’t look to see who Jeno is talking about or he’ll give his position away, but by the way that Donghyuck sighs deep, he _knows_ who it is. He can feel his bones shaking in recognition, with excitement.

There’s only one other person who can make Donghyuck, that fucking ridiculous meddling student, sigh that way–and if it isn’t him, it’s Renjun.

“Don’t get close to him,” Donghyuck hisses between his teeth, voice low. Jaemin needs to concentrate to not miss any words. He wants to look around the corner, wants to peek and see the amazing sight of Renjun, but he can’t fucking blow his cover. “Don’t get close to him and the other one who hangs around him–Jaemin. Don’t look at them, don’t talk with them, don’t ask others about them.”

There’s a pause, but then Jeno chuckles. “What? Are they some kind of bullies?” His voice is entirely curious.

Jaemin waits to see how much Donghyuck will talk. What’s his new agenda is and what kind of tale he will try to spin.

“They’re some kind of fucked up people, Jeno. And nothing good happens when you get their attention. I know you’re excited about making friends, but don’t go after them.”

“Why are you saying all this? They look okay though?”

“God, Jeno, just trust me,” Donghyuck’s voice sounds tired, a conversation he had too many times before. “If they talk with you don’t answer. Just ignore them, it’s for the best. Why are you– _fuck.”_

Donghyuck swears and Jaemin smiles when he hears how livid the boy sounds. He loves riling him up and winning, even more when he’s not even _trying_.

A deep sigh. “They already talked with you, huh?”

There’s a silence, but Jaemin imagines that Jeno must be nodding. He smiles and bites his lower lip.

“Fuck,” Donghyuck says. Jaemin smiles even bigger, digging his teeth deep into his lip to not make any noise. “D-don’t talk with them anymore… _Please_ ,” he begs, his voice breaking on the last word.

“I really don’t get it, though?” Jeno asks, reluctant. “They seemed… okay?”

“They aren’t. Fuck. You haven’t been here long enough to understand and see the things I did, Jeno, but trust me. They _aren’t._ ”

“What did they do?”

“Officially, nothing. But there’s some weird shit going on. I swear to god. One day I’ll prove it.” Another pause. Jaemin wants to scoff and tell Donghyuck what’s on his mind, but he forces himself to stay quiet. “I know we haven’t met each other for long, but I _do_ consider you a friend and I’d hate for anything to happen to you, Jeno. You can ask around and you’ll see how some people agree with me–they’re up to something… Just don’t ask the weird boys that smoke behind the East Bleachers, I think they might have been bribed by them.”

“Uhhh… Honestly, you’re making me a little worried about you. You seem to–uh–care a lot about them.”

Jaemin can hear a tint of confusion and frustration in Jeno’s voice, and Jaemin gets that Jeno must be one of these people that likes to prance around about second chances and truly meeting someone before you judge them. Ah. Maybe things _will_ be a lot easier than they had initially thought.

Not for the first time, Jaemin wonders if Donghyuck acts like this because a long time ago, way before any of them knew what was hidden behind Renjun’s cute little smile, Donghyuck wanted to pursue Renjun. And Jaemin was in the way.

But Jaemin had won, and Donghyuck was bitter and still trying to fuck them up, always putting his nose where he doesn’t belong. That surely must be the reason. And Jaemin is sure that Donghyuck wouldn’t appreciate anything about Renjun as _he_ does – he’d probably have gone away the moment he discovered the truth. But not Jaemin. He’d won. He’s the real winner there. He stayed.

He’s the one sprawled on Renjun’s bed, the one who kisses him clean, the one who understands him. And Donghyuck could never be like him. He doubted that Donghyuck had any good reasons for whatever the fuck he was always trying to do. He’s sure that Donghyuck is only bitter and revengeful, but he’ll never be in his place. Jaemin will never let him.

* * *

Renjun’s room is empty. Upon his desk, there are only the empty teacups and the burned down candles. The faraway scent of his cologne lingers in the air. He’s been gone for a while.

Jaemin finds him behind the Arts Building, stopping in his tracks when he _sees that_. It’s not part of their usual plan, and they didn’t make any new ones, so why the fuck is Renjun sitting with Jeno, talking sweetly with him, under _their_ fucking tree?

Jaemin stares from a distance, the taste of something bitter on the back of his throat. He clenches his fist so tight that it leaves half-moon bloody marks on the soft flesh of his palms. He can’t feel the sting.

It’s not even the fucking pretentious willow tree, the one Renjun likes to play around for aesthetics and shit, but the large oak one. _Their_ oak tree.

He stares and stares and stares.

Jaemin doesn’t try to hide from view, but it’s not like it fucking matters. Jeno is too enamored by whatever Renjun’s talking – whatever lies he’s spewing right now –, hanging at Renjun’s every word, his eyes soft and flushing, to even pay attention to his surroundings. All his focus on Renjun.

Jaemin feels sick. There’s a dark, vicious thing tucked against his core, flaring up with every brush of Renjun’s fingers on Jeno’s face.

Somehow, it feels different from when Renjun is making out with someone at a party and he’s watching – because then, he knows what destiny that random person will have. What destiny Jeno was supposed to have. Jaemin’s not sure about _that_ now. It doesn’t feel like Jeno’s end will be in the forest anymore.

It’s not the first time he catches Renjun doing some shit like this with Jeno, going behind his back to talk with him. _Not following the plans._ It worries him, but Jaemin tries to force his nerves down, swallowing his fears. He stares. Renjun catches his eye and doesn’t stop, one eyebrow arching slightly, the quirk of the corner of his lips. He knows that Jaemin is fuming, but he doesn’t stop.

And it always ends up like this, like every other time–Jaemin watches, drowning in his own jealousy, and Renjun sees him. And Jaemin continues standing there until they separate and go on their own ways, barely looking at Jeno before he’s following Renjun back to his room, where his back will be slammed against the door before it even closes shut all the way, Renjun all over him.

Everything melts away when Renjun touches him, all his doubts turning into something irrational and childish. How could he doubt Renjun when he holds him like that? When, in the end, Jaemin is the one chosen to kiss him clean?

But still, there’s the flickering of something against his ribcage, and he hisses between his teeth, dodging Renjun’s lips momentarily, “What’s up with Jeno?”

It’s hard to talk when his brain is all over the place, the only thought on his mind being _Renjunrenjunrenjun._

“Don’t worry your pretty little head with him.”

And it’s easy to do just that when Renjun falls onto his knees, pulling Jaemin’s pants down. Jaemin knows exactly what he’s trying to do, can see his manipulations clearly in the way he’s trying to take his attention away from the topic. Jaemin knows and he stills falls for it, because it’s Renjun and he’ll always will when it’s about him.

* * *

It’s in the middle of the night when Renjun stumbles into the clearing with a barely conscious guy holding his arm for support.

“It took you long enough, babe,” Jaemin says, affection dripping from his every word. He can’t wait to see Renjun getting into the zone–the glint on his eyes, the sharp tongue. He loves every part of it. “I was so bored waiting.”

Renjun grunts and shoves the man to the ground, straightening himself up. He looks behind him.

“Where’s your bag, babe?” Jaemin asks. “Aren’t you playing tonight?”

Renjun doesn’t turn in his direction. Instead, he lifts his arm and opens his hands. “Jeno. Come.”

Jaemin inhales sharply when he sees Jeno coming out from the dark, hidden from the moonlight. He looks wide-eyed at everything around him, stumbling in Renjun’s direction to hold his hand, and Jaemin _seethes_.

“ _What the fuck?_ Why is he here?” He points at Jeno, anger flooding his entire system, blood thrumming hot in his veins. Jeno’s taking Renjun away from him and Jaemin isn’t here for that–he gets to stay on _their_ tree, take Renjun’s time away, and now is even part of _their_ moment?

Renjun barely acknowledges him, patting Jeno on the shoulder. “Go and join Jaemin so you can watch.”

Jeno looks between him and Renjun multiple times before visibly gulping and taking a step in his direction, head low. Jaemin scowls, crossing his arms.

“Renjunnie,” he says, tone full of his distaste. “I don’t want him here.”

Jeno snaps his head up, looking like a kicked puppy. It’s fucking ridiculous, Jaemin thinks. He can’t imagine what the fuck must be going on in Renjun’s mind to decide on that. By the way it looks like Jeno isn’t even a bit under the influence, Jaemin doubts he’s there to be the second victim of the night. And if he isn’t going to be another body, then there’s no reason for him to be there _at all_.

But Renjun looks at him with a twitch of his eyebrow, his lips pursed. “Jaemin,” he says carefully, voice almost neutral but a hint of anger in it. “I didn’t ask for your opinion. If you want to stay, then behave.”

He feels sick. Renjun’s obviously not happy with him. But Jaemin _can’t_ let Jeno ruin another one of _their_ things.

“Junnie,” he tries again, voice bordering on a whine. “Please. We–this is _our_ moment. Why is he here?” He points at Jeno who was closer to him, and his body heats even more with anger at seeing the confused look on Jeno’s face with the backlash of his presence. He doesn’t fucking care if Jeno gets hurt by it, he doesn’t _belong_ there. “Junnie. Try to think a little. This isn’t okay.”

But it seems like Renjun had had enough, for the next thing that Jaemin sees is a close-up of Renjun’s annoyed face before he’s being forced on his knees, grunting in pain with the sudden impact. He can barely hear Jeno’s shocked gasp.

“Being a brat is one thing, Jaemin-ah. But making me waste time, _here_ , when you know how important every little second is just because you’re being a dumb territorial dog?” Renjun snarls, his eyes sharp. He grabs a fistful of Jaemin’s hair, pulling hard, and Jaemin feels his eyes stinging with tears. “Fucking grow up and change. Or you won’t be here anymore to do that.”

Jaemin shakes, his bottom lip wobbling. The anger and disappointment irradiate from Renjun, and Jaemin hates that he was the one to make him like that. 

Renjun stares down at him and relaxes his grip a little. “Are you going to stop?”

Jaemin nods.

“Good. Keep Jeno company. Don’t fuck up.”

He tugs his hair one more time before releasing completely, turning without giving him another look. In contrast with his previous actions, Renjun cups one of Jeno’s cheeks and caresses the soft flesh. “Go and stay with Jaemin, he always gets a good view. Don’t worry, he won’t do anything to you.”

Jaemin sits down on the ground, the dry leaves cracking under his weight. He doesn’t acknowledge when Jeno sits next to him, drowning in his own misery, but still unable to turn his eyes away from Renjun.

“Why do you hate me?” Jeno asks softly, voice barely being heard over the wind. Jaemin doesn’t answer.

_“Can I do anything for you to give me a chance?”_

_“Did I do something wrong?”_

Jeno keeps asking questions, even when he already knows he won’t get an answer.

Jaemin’s sulking, unable to even snap at the boy next to him, not wanting to disappoint Renjun even more. It’s not a good night – Renjun is too annoyed to do anything but punch the daylights off the guy and leave him bleeding on the forest floor. 

When they get back to Renjun’s room (Jeno thankfully having gone away to his own place), Renjun lets Jaemin enter and he sighs in relief, but Renjun refuses to let him dress his bloody knuckles, taking care of his own wounds. Jaemin watches, mournfully, Renjun do something that he always does after every time they go out.

He finishes cleaning up and then kicks Jaemin out of his room. Jaemin stares a little at the closed door, dragging his feet to his own place. It feels unfamiliar being there, like walking into a childhood bedroom and only seeing the past. He lays on his bed still dressed, a layer of dust on his unused sheets, and stares at the ceiling until the sun rises. 

Too much to think about.

* * *

They’re in Renjun’s room and it’s night, the only light coming from the candles Renjun had lit up.

Renjun is sitting in his pompous armchair, the one with red and gold fabric that makes him look like he came straight from a late nineteenth century painting, and Jaemin watches him read from the floor until he can’t hold himself back anymore.

“He’s going to sell us out, Jun. Don’t be stupid.”

There’s no other sound in the room beside his own frantic breathing, and Jaemin waits for an explosion, waits for Renjun to raise his voice. He’s been swallowing his own frustrations for weeks but can’t stay silent anymore. Jeno seems to be a constant presence and Jaemin worries.

Instead of getting angry, Renjun tilts his head to the side and rests his chin on his palm, dropping the book on the floor. His eyes are sharp and Jaemin feels like they set him ablaze.

“You’re so jealous that it’s fucking ridiculous,” Renjun says easily and Jaemin splutters. “Please, don’t play dumb now. You’re being a fucking pain in the ass. Are you afraid that I’ll replace you with him?” He smiles–something with too many teeth, something dangerous. Jaemin swallows with difficulty, feeling his throat dry. “I’m gonna do just that if you don’t stop this shit.”

It’s not the first or second time that Renjun threatens him like this but now–now it doesn’t look like a passing thought, but more like his definitive end. Like Renjun already has everything planned out and it’s only briefing him in the details.

Jaemin is desperate. Being killed off is one thing, but being replaced and forced to watch him every day, every second, and not allowed to be close, to touch him, is even worse.

He scrambles and crawls over Renjun’s lap, stepping over the book on the way. He enlaces his arms around Renjun’s neck, his heart beating desperately against his ribcage. “Babe,” his voice sounds so broken that it’s pathetic even to his ears. “Babe, don’t–”

Renjun hums. He rests one hand over Jaemin’s thigh but doesn’t do anything more than that.

“Renjun. Renjun. Babe, you don’t mean that, right? You wouldn’t just push me to the side, right?”

And then Renjun smirks, fingers squeezing his thigh. “I’m teasing you. I wouldn’t just replace you, darling, you know that...”

Jaemin waits pitifully for the rest, throat choked up.

“You know too much, so I’d just have to end you.” Renjun supplies, fingers squeezing his thigh again. “But don’t worry, Jaeminnie,” he says, voice so sweet that it makes Jaemin tense up. “I’d make you go while you’re having a good time so you wouldn’t suffer. Isn’t that great? You wouldn’t even notice.”

The heat brimming in the pit of his stomach explodes and fills his entire body, and Jaemin pants even though he wasn’t doing anything. In Renjun’s language there’s no greater mercy than this, and to be conceded that even when they haven’t been in the best terms, only makes Jaemin more light-headed. Renjun cares, Renjun still cares, and he wouldn’t make Jaemin suffer.

So he crashes their lips together and licks into Renjun’s mouth with no preamble, back arching in an attempt of bringing their bodies closer together.

“I don’t wanna go yet,” Jaemin mumbles later, after breaking apart. It's not a choice–one day he'll go, and he wants it to be under Renjun's hand.

He cups Renjun’s face, thumb caressing the soft skin of his cheek, and brushes their lips together, lightly. It feels almost obscene that soft touch, just feeling Renjun’s breath against his lips, the fluttering of his eyelashes. Jaemin wishes he could become the air, even if only for a moment, just so he could be inside Renjun and fuel his body. To be so together that they were one and couldn’t be torn apart.

Renjun nibbles his bottom lip and Jaemin shudders, his tongue licking the place that Renjun had just bitten.

“So stop being a little bitch about the situation.” Renjun’s hands move up from his thighs, palms squeezing his waist. There’s a small smile on his face but his eyes are sharp. “Learn how to get along. Jeno isn’t going anywhere for now.”

That brings Jaemin’s mood down. “He isn’t going–”

“No,” Renjun cuts him off. He feeds Jaemin’s need for contact by sliding up his hands from his waist to his chest and back to his hips, and Jaemin shivers with the feeling. “Don’t make me do something I don’t want to, so learn how to share, you get it? Or there’ll be consequences.” Renjun finishes making his point by pinching the skin and Jaemin yelps.

He isn’t happy with the situation, but he swallows his complaints down and nods, albeit reluctantly. Renjun hums and brings one hand to Jaemin’s jaw, bringing him down to slot their mouths together, and Jaemin melts with his touch, sighing and moaning into his mouth.

It’s too easy to distract him.

* * *

They’re in one of the picnic tables close to the Sports fields. There’s no one around them and Jaemin is trying not to sulk too much.

He tries to engage in a talk with Jeno, he _does,_ but it just seems like his default mode is to snap and make everything uncomfortable, so it’s just easier to give up and wallow in silence.

There was an ant crawling across the table’s surface, but Jeno put his hand next to it and the ant went to the top of his hand. Jeno didn’t kill it. He kept passing the ant from one hand to another, looking as if it was the most interesting thing that had happened that day.

Jaemin watches. “Why don’t you kill it?”

Jeno startles a little and lowers his hands, the ant quickly getting back to the table’s surface and away from him.

“I don’t want to.”

Next to him, Jaemin could feel Renjun sighing as he stands up. “Let’s go,” he says, slapping the table with an open palm. The ant lays dead, smashed, and Jeno stares a little, a crestfallen expression on his face before he slings over his shoulder his bag with his practice clothes and follows Renjun.

Jaemin rolls his eyes and gets up, trying to bite down on another remark that bubbles up in his throat. Renjun’s gaze is enough to silence him.

* * *

“He was a rapist, so it was a good thing in the end. Right, Jaem? Jen? We’re helping the world here.”

Renjun isn’t waiting for an answer. He never is when he’s drunk with power and there’s fresh blood on his hands.

This was one was a rapist because they knew more about him to find out that information. Not everyone got that treatment. Jaemin preferred not to dwell on that. You can’t bring back the dead.

Jeno is sitting down against a tree, head between his knees and eyes on the ground, trying not to throw up. He hadn’t made even a minute and Jaemin fought to snort. _Amateur._

Jaemin carefully moves closer to Renjun, tiptoeing to not dirty his shoes. Renjun opens his arms as soon as he gets there, and Jaemin sinks into his embrace. Renjun is right there under his fingertips, soft, pliable in a way that only happens in those moments–the aftermath. He loves it like every other side of Renjun.

He taps the tip of Renjun’s nose to get his attention and, when Renjun turns, he pecks him quickly, smiling after. If it’s impossible to resist Renjun normally, now is even more difficult. Renjun glows under the moonlight, his eyes shining bright.

“Babe,” Jaemin says, pecking him again. “You’re so pretty.” He runs his fingers through Renjun’s hair, brushing away the knots. Renjun lets him, hand warm and steady on his waist. “So, so pretty.” He thumbs away a drop of blood on Renjun’s cheek. It’s not Renjun’s blood, so Jaemin wipes it away on his shirt, uninterested. “God, I wish I could devour you whole.”

Renjun doesn’t answer, thumb caressing the skin of his waist and looking down at his work. Jaemin snuggles into him, the background noise of the trees swaying mixing with the sound of Jeno dry heaving.

* * *

Donghyuck stares at him, his eyes burning. “Leave Jeno alone.”

“Who? Me?” Jaemin asks, the corner of his lip curling up. “Who is this Jeno you’re talking about?”

Donghyuck doesn’t budge. He hugs his notebook closer to his chest, knuckles turning white as he hisses, mindful of the teacher not too far away from them. “I’m telling you one last time, leave him _alone._ He doesn’t deserve anything bad. If you do something to him, I swear to god that you and Renjun will fucking regret it.”

Jaemin smiles. “What are you even talking about? The worst thing I’ve ever done was skip my classes. Try and explain to me what you mean, Donghyuck.”

“You’ve been warned,” Donghyuck says, nose scrunching up in disgust as he looks him over. “Don’t test me. You know I have dirt on you.”

“Do you?” Jaemin asks, grinning wide. “About what? What do you think I have even done?”

* * *

They’re sitting on one of the branches of their oak tree. Just the two of them, now. Jeno had gone back to some kind of creative writing class and Jaemin cheerfully waved him goodbye, nuzzling into Renjun’s neck.

Renjun patted him on the leg when Jeno was walking away. “Don’t be mean to him, Jaem,” he says in a scolding tone. Despite feeling like a disobedient pet, Jaemin still pouts a little. He’s _been_ trying to be better. It’s just hard to share when, before, he had had Renjun all for him. “You could teach him things. Didn’t you want a puppy to follow behind you? Now here’s one for you.”

Jaemin stops, eyes zeroing on Jeno’s form in the distance. “... for me?”

Renjun is quick to snort and pat his thigh again. “No, for _us_. But you can play a little too.”

That makes Jaemin think. It’s an interesting aspect he hadn’t thought of yet. If he taught Jeno, as Renjun had said, he’d have the perfect ally, the perfect partner. One more person to worship Renjun.

He’s selfish and he wants Renjun all to himself, but if he can’t have that, then he could make sure that the other person was to his standards. Renjun deserved nothing but perfection.

In the distance, Jeno stops and Jaemin automatically tenses when he sees Donghyuck approaching him. They’re too far away, just two small figures on the horizon, but the way that Donghyuck gesticulates with his arms and turns to look at the tree, Jaemin just knows about what he’s talking about and he can’t help but chuckle.

And _that_ is another thing. Donghyuck cares enough about Jeno to continue trying to make his mind, and if they completely win Jeno over, then Donghyuck would lose again. Jaemin is _so_ ready for that. To see Donghyuck’s face crumbling down as he realizes he can’t beat them almost makes it all worth it. But still, a sharp jealous little thing inside him hisses in warning, not enjoying the prospect of _sharing_.

He sighs. Too much thinking. Maybe another day he’ll revisit the topic, and until then–he drops a little kiss under Renjun’s jaw.

“I don’t want you to replace me,” Jaemin says. “I like you too much. I love you too much. I don’t like Jeno, but… he’s better than before, I guess,” he mumbles dejectedly. Renjun only hums as a reply, his fingers brushing the inside of Jaemin’s thighs, tugging on a loose thread of his too-expensive pants. “I wish I could keep you all to me. I’d put you in my pocket and never let you leave.”

“Would you?” Renjun asks, arching his eyebrows. There’s the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

“Uh-huh. I’d never let you out of my sight… And maybe I’d let Jeno see you, but only if you said you wanted him but still… You’d be mine. All mine. And I’d keep you safe, and away, and nobody else could touch you.”

Renjun smiles. “That’s quite the dream, darling. You’re too good for me.” Jaemin wants to refute that _no, he isn’t_ , but instead he nips at his neck, lips brushing his pulse point.

As always, Renjun’s heartbeat is calm and steady. Such a contrast to his wild, fluttering heart.

* * *

Jeno is a wannabe writer and he tends to romanticize everything around him.

It's kind of funny, Jaemin thinks, to be in the middle of a conversation, just the three of them in a room, and then Jeno is scrambling away to pull out his notebook, jotting down random words.

The first few times made him confused. And then worried. What was he documenting on the paper that he didn't want them to see? Was he writing everything about them to bring them down? Renjun says that Jeno is on the palm of his hand and he shouldn't worry–but Jaemin still does; he’s too wary of trusting him, afraid of having Renjun taken away from him.

So Jaemin took the notebook away from him, flipping through the pages and avoiding Jeno's desperate hands. He only found poems and strings of words that don't seem to make any sense, too metaphoric for him to understand. Unless it's some secret code, it seems safe enough.

After that, Jeno became more open about his writing, gathering the courage to share his craft. Renjun is the most artistic one between them both, so Jeno usually goes to him in search of feedback, but sometimes he shows Jaemin his progress, and Jaemin needs to bite down the automatic retort that wants to leave his mouth.

It's weird for him to see himself through the eyes of someone else–of someone who writes everything in a pretty way, with rose-colored glasses on. Violence fills the pages between too many soft adjectives, too many descriptions of Renjun's eyes. Jeno never writes their names, but it's obvious for Jaemin who the protagonists are. There's only one person there who kisses the blood off Renjun's lips, anyway.

“If I rip someone’s throat will you also write prettily?"

Jeno blinks, tilting his head to the side, and his glasses slip a little down the bridge of his nose. He's laying down on his stomach on Renjun's bed, notebook open in front of him, and a pen in hand. He looks at Jaemin – who's sprawled on Renjun's armchair – with a curious glint, as if studying him and trying to decide if it was worth it.

“I can try.”

Jaemin grunts and looks away. He kicks the back of Renjun's chair lightly, but Renjun doesn't move from his position, focused on whatever he's doing on his desk, his back to Jaemin.

He sighs. Jeno is turning out to not be _that_ bad, but making small talk with him is _hard_ and everything is easier when Renjun is there to distract him and being the one to lead any conversation.

The candles flicker. Jeno is back to his writing and Jaemin is bored. So bored. Why have one more person if they both don't pay attention to him? Maybe he should try to find a hobby if only to have something to do in these moments.

"What are you writing about?"

Jeno's writing is the easiest topic–Jeno likes to talk about it and Jaemin usually can't fuck up the conversation. It's safe. And it usually helps to feed Renjun's ego. So it's good for everyone.

Jeno writes down one more word, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. He doesn't look at Jaemin when he says, "You."

Though he doesn't startle, Jaemin gets close to. He swallows. Jeno still doesn't look at him. "Why me? There's nothing to write about."

If he isn't paired with Renjun, there's nothing pretty to write about him. There's no devotion to be described, no caressing against Renjun's face. He'd understand if Jeno was writing about Renjun because Jaemin wouldn't waste the opportunity to sing praises about him every second of the day.

Jeno puts the pen down, between the pages of his notebook. He lifts his eyes and rests his chin on the palm of his hands. Jeno is always soft, always sweet, something Jaemin had never experienced before–especially after drowning inside Renjun for so long. It's weird to see someone looking at him so gently, carefully. He doesn't deserve it. Even more when he's aware of how badly he treated Jeno before.

“Your eyes are very pretty and expressive," Jeno says. Jaemin feels himself hanging on every word that spills out from his lips. "You don’t need to say anything out loud. Just one look and one can understand what you want.”

He doesn't like it. Doesn't like the idea of people reading him easily. It makes him feel uneasy to be able to be torn apart and dissected by prying eyes. He's the one who does that with others. He shouldn't be easy to be understood.

Jaemin scoffs a little, something weird and foreign bubbling inside his belly. “Yeah? And what I’m saying right now?”

_“‘Fuck off, Jeno. Stop this bullshit.’”_

It feels wrong hearing those things come out of Jeno's mouth, the touch of bitterness underneath it. He said those things, Jaemin knows that, but it's like he's finally seeing the truth and how it _doesn't sound right._ Jeno never did anything to him and Jaemin was always already on the edge, teeth bared. Renjun was the one who had brought Jeno in, and it wasn't Jeno who worked his way inside and pushed Jaemin to the side.

He wasn't looking at Jeno like that, but that's what Jeno said because it's how he usually is. Jaemin doesn't know how he feels but he doesn't like it. It almost seems like there isn't enough air inside his lungs. So he looks down at the carpet and tugs at the stray threads.

Renjun snorts from the side, still not moving from his position. “I’m not even seeing him and I’m sure that it’s true.”

Jaemin huffs, louder. He sees that the action makes Jeno smile a little.

“You have this tell-tale sign,” Jeno says, leaning more his face into his hands, elbows sinking into the mattress. “You slightly lift your eyebrows when you’re mad but you’re holding yourself back on making a scene… Like now.”

Renjun inhales sharply, shoulders shaking slightly. Jaemin frowns. It’s not like that. Jeno isn’t familiar enough with him and his moods to read it clearly.

“I don’t.”

“You do. And you also scrunch up your nose when you want something from Renjun and you’re trying to convince him.”

“Stop looking at me,” Jaemin mumbles. “There’s no reason for it.”

“But I like it,” Jeno says easily, as if that answered everything. “For example, Renjun does this thing with his lips when he’s in the zone and you keep twitching your fingers as if you need to touch or do something.”

Renjun pauses. He turns to the side, facing Jeno. Jaemin looks up to observe the scene.

“You pay a lot of attention,” Renjun says, words carefully picked out. Jaemin can taste the calculation coming off from Renjun, and he feels like they’re treading in dangerous territory. He suddenly feels alert.

Jeno flushes a little under Renjun’s heated gaze, cheeks becoming pink and teeth grazing his bottom lip. “I guess. I like to observe people so I can write better. And you two are an… interesting subject.”

Jaemin can read between the lines clearly enough – Jeno tends to romanticize everything and what he and Renjun have, what they do, it’s too tempting for Jeno to ignore, to not want to dwell deeper. You can only look and call for the unknown long enough before you also become part of it.

“You write a lot about us?” Renjun asks casually, as if he didn’t know the contents of Jeno’s writings, as if he also hadn’t stolen Jeno’s notebook and dissected every word there.

Jeno flushes more, the tip of his ears red, the pink going down to his neck and disappearing under his shirt. 

It always lifts his mood to see Renjun in his element, eyes fierce and tongue smooth. It’s an easy banter well engraved in his being, and Jaemin joins before he even realizes what he’s doing, the words spilling out from his lips carelessly, “Little Jen likes to write about us, hmm?”

It’s obvious that none of them were expecting him to do anything like that. Renjun quickly looks at him before he focuses back on Jeno, but Jeno–Jeno stares at him, mouth slightly parted, his cheeks flushed. He’s flustered to hell and Jaemin likes the sudden lick of power that settles on the pit of his belly; to be able to render someone speechless and have them at your mercy with some carefully picked words. He wonders if that’s how Renjun feels all the time.

“It’s interesting,” Jeno mumbles after regaining his bearings. “I play with the words to create something pretty out of…” He moves one hand aimlessly in the air. “You know. Out of all things.”

Renjun’s attention is back to his desk, body curved in the chair. Jaemin keeps looking at Jeno, rearranging himself in the armchair. He feels restless. There’s something that hasn’t clicked all the way yet, but he can feel approaching in the distance.

He thinks about Renjun’s words of having his own pet and thinks about Jeno’s reactions to him even after everything he had done, he thinks about Jeno’s wide-eyed look and pure mouth. It feels sinful to even think about touching Jeno, and suddenly Jaemin doesn’t disapprove of Jeno’s presence that much anymore. He can understand why Renjun had done what he did.

Compared to him, Jeno is a blank canvas, untouched by the darkness, just toeing the line and tasting the thrill of what they offer. To hold the power to wreck and destroy him is a tempting offer that flares up the heat on his insides in an unusual way for Jaemin.

“Out of all things?” Jaemin asks. Suddenly his throat is dry. Suddenly there are thoughts he never considered before swimming around on his mind. “There’s nothing poetic about hiding a body.”

It’s Jeno’s look who seals the deal. He smiles a little, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose again, and readjusts his position, unconsciously bending forward to make a point nobody asked for.

He talks in an ardent way, spitting out words jumbled together in a way that makes no sense for Jaemin, but Jaemin gets what it is. He gets Renjun now. He sees the appeal of having someone on the palm of your hand and consuming them whole.

“The moon bathes you in its silver glow in an unspoken blessing, the trees guarding your secrets deep down on their roots. But the eyes tell you everything you need to know–something happened, something changed. You kiss him clean and it’s never enough, but you don’t mind it, do you? You keep brushing your lips because you want to. It’ll never be enough for you.”

Jaemin feels his chest heaving up and down, lips parted. He doesn’t know when it started, he doesn’t know why he did it. Warmth pools on the bottom of his belly. “Is that what you think, Jeno? Is that it?”

There’s nothing greater than seeing his devotion to Renjun exposed like this. It almost seems like Jeno _gets it_.

Jeno swallows, eyes flittering between him and something behind him. His bones can feel the close presence of Renjun, and soon after, he feels the touch of Renjun’s hand on his shoulder. The air tastes like the breaking point.

“Maybe,” Jeno breathes out, licking his lips. Jaemin follows the movement and his mouth salivates. “Why?”

* * *

Jaemin pats Jeno on the back, the cold biting wind freezing every part of his body that wasn’t covered.

“There, there,” he says, voice uneasy. “It’ll be okay.”

Jeno can’t reply. He was half-bent, hands on his knees and breathing hard, but he falls onto his knees, hands fisting the earth and dead grass, retching sounds echoing through the night.

Jaemin recoils a little with the noise but keeps patting Jeno on the back, offering the little bit of comfort he could.

Behind them, hidden through the trees and foliage, Renjun is busy.

Usually, Jaemin would be there, watching, close to him. But it was Jeno’s first time up-close, the curiosity burning inside him to see what captivated Jaemin so much until he got a view of Renjun’s skilled hands and blood flowing to the floor. Jeno immediately turned away, gagging, and staggered to the closest tree in search of support for his trembling legs.

Jaemin watched him stumble until Renjun had said, “Go keep him company.”

“Me? But–”

“ _Jaemin_.”

Another heaving sound and Jaemin sighed, pursing his lips. With a hand on Jeno’s shoulders, he led him away from Renjun and the wet choking noises coming from the body.

“‘m sorry…” Jeno mumbles, voice wavering. “I…”

He cuts himself off, leaning to the side and throwing up on the ground. Jaemin scrunches up his nose, squeezing Jeno’s shoulder. Right now, he’s thankful for the cover the trees provide against the bright moonlight.

“It’s okay,” he says. “Just–”

Jeno’s body escapes from below his fingertips, another retching sound reaching his ears. Jaemin sighs and searches for Jeno’s body, helping to keep him upright.

“Take a deep breath,” Jaemin orders, feeling the trembling of Jeno’s body under his hands. “And another one. Do you think you’re going to throw up anymore?”

“N-no…”

He maneuvers Jeno away from the mess, supporting his weight until he deposits him against a tree.

“How are you?” Jaemin asks.

Jeno chuckles weakly, breaking off in some coughs. “Like shit.”

Jaemin bites his lower lip, deep in thought. “Wait a minute,” he says and goes back to the clearing.

Renjun doesn’t look at him when he gets close nor stops whatever he’s doing, but when Jaemin stops by his side, he says, “Is he okay?”

“Sick as shit,” Jaemin snorts a little. He leans down to pick up a water bottle from Renjun’s bag and stops his movements when he gets a look at the body. “Babe, I think that’s the most straight cut you ever did,” he says, awed. He quickly brushes a kiss on Renjun’s temple and gets up. “Do you need me or…?”

“Stay with Jeno,” Renjun replies. “I’ll deal with this alone.”

Though he pouts a little, Jaemin follows Renjun’s instructions and goes back. Jeno is still in the same position as before, eyes blown wide and sweat plastered to his face, lips bitten red.

Jaemin approaches him and gives the water bottle, sitting down on the ground in front of him.

“And now?” Jaemin asks. “How are you now?”

“A little better.” His voice is still weak, but not as broken as before. He holds the bottle tight and takes a sip.

Jaemin watches him carefully, looking for any sign that might indicate he’d start throwing up again.

Jeno finishes half of the water before he says anything, “I’ll… I’ll get used to it.” He licks his lips. Gulps. “So don’t worry,” he adds quickly.

“What? Why?”

“I’m not weak,” he says. “I’ll watch next time, and then I’ll get used to it,” Jeno repeats.

Jaemin frowns a little. “You don’t _have_ to get used to this if you don’t want to. You know you don’t need to watch or anything like that, right? It’s just–look, Jeno. I don’t have a problem with it, but if you prefer to stay away, you can do it. Renjun won’t be mad or anything like that.”

But Jeno just says again that he’ll get used to the situation and Jaemin sighs, frustration starting to settle inside him.

“What’s your problem?” Jaemin asks. “If you can’t stomach it, then you _can’t_. Don’t keep forcing yourself and then getting sick. I don’t want to have to babysit you every time.”

“I’m not listening to you,” Jeno retorts, a layer of bitterness underneath his words. “For once I’ll be selfish and I’ll do what I want. I know you want me away, but Renjun _doesn’t_ , so you’ll have to deal with my presence.”

Jaemin blinks in surprise. It’s the first time that Jeno ever raised his voice to him, showing his sharp sides. But then Jaemin laughs a little, realization drawing on him. “Ah, yeah. I really hated you. But I forgot to update you on the situation–I’m not _that_ mad anymore. You can stay, I guess.”

Jeno startles, the words dying on his lips. He was so tense and on the edge before, the water bottle crumpling in his grip, but all the fight leaves him with Jaemin’s words.

“W-what?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like sharing _at all,_ but, for some reason, Renjun wants you around and… Well, I guess you could be worse? That’s it.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand. Why now? What changed _now_?”

Jaemin sighs. He looks up to the sky, but the trees block his vision of the starry sky. When he looks at Jeno, the boy is furrowing his brow, obviously confused. “It doesn’t matter, does it? Anyway. You can still get out, you know?” Jaemin fixes him a gaze. “Things aren’t pretty like you write them to be. And you aren’t trapped. If you want to, you can go.”

It’s an empty promise. Renjun probably wouldn’t let him go free, but Jaemin had hesitated after seeing Jeno throwing up like that just because of some blood. He says he’ll get used to it, but it’s a gamble that Jaemin isn’t sure if they should take on.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jeno says. “I’m staying.”

“Well… I warned you. I gave you a chance. Just don’t end up turning out to be another romantic asshole who wants to _fix_ us, okay? I don’t have any more patience for that kind of shit.”

Jeno splutters. “What–no–I–”

“Please, you think you’re the first one to romanticize everything that Renjun does? That we do? There’s always some edgy fucker around the corner. If you’re just fucking around, then _get out_. If not, then we can deal with some upset stomach. But if you’re not serious, then fuck off.”

Jeno blinks quickly, pausing for a while before saying, “I don’t think you ever talked that much with me before.”

Jaemin snorts. “Yeah. Let’s just say I had… some enlightenment.”

If Renjun said to him that he wanted to play and devour him whole, wanted to see him break, Jaemin would be fucking ecstatic. He doesn't know where Jeno stands with this kind of talk, so he thinks it’s better, for now, to leave him in the dark about his motivations.

“I’m not really sure of you yet,” Jeno says, voice as neutral as he can manage. “But I care for Renjun and I said I’m staying. So if you’re part of the deal… I guess that this is it then. You're also not _that_ bad… When you aren't cursing me out or glaring at everyone.”

Jaemin swallows, something burning at the back of his throat. “You can’t only have him," he says quickly.

“Huh?”

There's something flickering below his skin, brimming to the surface. He can't say to Jeno's face what exactly he thinks, what made him change his mind. Not yet.

“If you want to have him, you’ll have to deal with me too. We come together–you can’t just have one. It’s the deal. Renjun somehow wants you and I’m learning to deal with you, so you gotta do the same with me.”

He feels exposed, as if he talked too much, divulged enough for Jeno to pry open the wound and see everything inside. But Jeno’s brows are furrowed and he’s staring hard at him, and Jaemin wonders what kind of poetry he’s thinking inside his head to convince himself of that situation – where Jaemin isn't any more just a character in his writings.

It takes a while and Jeno keeps crumpling the water bottle until he sighs, a deep sound resounding from his chest.

“Okay."

Jaemin smiles, something heavy uncurling inside him.

“Okay,” Jaemin repeats, eyes bright. His fingers twitch on his lap, his mind swirling with ideas. “We’re going to have _so_ much fun together, Jeno. You have _no_ idea.”

* * *

"What the fuck are you playing with Jeno?" Renjun asks, slamming him against the wall, his hand around his neck. Jaemin swallows. Renjun should know better than to threaten him with this.

"W-what?" Jaemin wheezes out, licking his lips. "You said to get along and I'm fucking getting along. You said he could be my puppy, and I'm trying to get under his skin just like you did."

Renjun stares at him, his eyes piercing and serious. _God_. He fucking loves that look on Renjun, fucking loves when he's all serious and business. And the hand around his neck does nothing but excite him even more.

"Jeno is wary. He says he wants to think you're planning something, but because you've done nothing yet, he is almost letting his guard down," Renjun says. "So, tell me, Jaeminnie. Are you fucking with Jeno to get rid of him or because you finally saw the light after being an asshole for months?"

Jaemin swallows dryly, throat hurting. "I may have seen the light," he utters. "You were right. You are always right. Babe, you're the best. You always know everything."

Renjun smiles, his teeth grazing his bottom lip. His hand squeezes his neck for a moment and Jaemin is quickly hardening inside his pants. "I know. Have your fun, Jaeminnie, but don't have _too_ much fun."

"Babe. Junnie," he mumbles. "I'm going to do just like you. I'm going to make Jeno my bitch. He'll be eating from my hand."

"Hmm?" Renjun arches one eyebrow. "Can you even do this?"

"Yes, yes," Jaemin nods. His heart flutters inside his chest, body warm. "You'll see. I'll make you proud."

"Are you going to mold him into another you?"

Everything stops. He looks wide-eyed at Renjun, lips parted. "Babe, _no_. No," there's a tone of desperation in his voice and he feels his eyes stinging. He can't believe that Renjun is saying that, like somebody could have the same fucking amount of love inside them like he does. "There's nobody that can ever come close to my feet. Babe. _Babe._ Don't you think I care about you? Do I need to prove to you?"

But Renjun unwraps his hand from his neck and pats the top of his head, eyes crinkling. "Ah, Jaemin-ah…" He drawls the words in a fond tone. "You always do so much… What would I do without you?"

Jaemin smiles.

* * *

“Jeno, _please_ ,” Donghyuck begs, his voice wrecked. “Don’t get into this. _Please_.”

Jaemin stifles a chuckle, squirming in place. He loves the sight of how miserable Donghyuck looks and how Jeno tries not to look into his friend’s eyes, shuffling in place.

They're talking behind the Arts Building and Jaemin, just out of one class he finally attended, decided to find Jeno just to stumble on the scene, hurrying to hide behind a tree.

_“Jeno.”_

“It’s okay, Hyuck,” Jeno says, uncertainness coloring his words. “Everything is okay.”

Donghyuck throws his hands around, frustration clear on his expression. “The fuck it is, Jeno! They’re messing up your head! You’re not like this!”

That makes Jeno stiffen. “You don’t know that. You don’t how I _really_ am.”

Jaemin bites his lower lip hard, not wanting to make any noise. God, that is fucking _golden._ Renjun is going to love to hear about that.

“Jeno, listen to yourself!” Donghyuck is close to crying now, blinking in quick motions and his voice breaking. His hands are grabbing the air desperately, Jeno keeping himself away from his range.

“Hyuck, please,” Jeno tries to say calmly, but Jaemin now has spent enough time by Jeno's side to be able to discern the shakiness of his fingers, the tension upon his shoulders.

It was too tempting. Jeno was enticed by the unfamiliar setting and dynamic, the call of the unknown being too hard to ignore. Jaemin knew it too well, had walked on the same road that Jeno was in.

It is close. Jeno is going to fall hard, Jaemin just knows it. Jeno is too far away and too deep now to just turn back around and pretend like nothing had ever happened. He had had a taste of the forbidden and the addiction would consume his entire being. It's now a matter of time. And Jaemin couldn’t wait to _see_ it.

“Jeno, please, please,” Donghyuck begs, a tear running down his face. “Look at the situation around you. _Look_. Don’t be stupid and end up in an early grave, Jeno. _Please._ They are not okay, and they are not good people–but _you are._ You are. I know you are, I know your heart is in the right place."

Jeno freezes and Jaemin waits with a bated breath for Jeno's rebuttal that never comes. He feels his heart dropping inside his chest. He can't believe that Jeno is falling into Donghyuck's trap, that he is considering Donghyuck's words after everything they had experienced together.

Jaemin had kissed the holy in him away and Renjun had made his place inside him, Jaemin knew it, Jeno fucking _knew it_ , so why wasn't he saying anything?

Donghyuck pleads more, but it all falls into deaf ears and they split ways, Jeno dragging his feet in silence. Jaemin runs behind him, grabbing his arm to stop him from moving, not even bothering to hide the fact that he had been eavesdropping his talk.

"Are you doubting me? Are you doubting Renjun? Us?" He snarls, drawing blood from his own lip as he bites down hard enough. "You said you were in this shit, Jeno. You better not have fucking lied. Or you're in or you're gonna get fucking ended, you hear me?"

Jeno's eyes are red and he nods.

"I–I just–sometimes I fear–" Jeno's voice wavers, but Jaemin cuts him off, cupping Jeno's jaw with a strong grip, "We're in this shit together and you have to fucking decide if you want to be part of this or not. I said I'd do my part and I'm _fucking_ doing it. I _killed_ for you Jeno, you saw me elbows deep into that guy's chest. Don't fucking doubt me right now. Don't you fucking _dare."_

Jeno makes a choking noise from the back of his throat, his eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"Why don't you believe me? Do I need to prove to you in another way? Do I? _Do I_?"

Jaemin can still see the doubt swirling behind Jeno’s eyes, muddling the thoughts inside his pretty little head, so Jaemin makes sure to fuck it all out of him.

It’s like he isn’t the one in control of his actions, mind hazy and heat burning inside his guts. He drapes Jeno over Renjun's bed, digging his nails deep into the boy’s hips as he thrusts inside him, muscles aching with the unfamiliarity of the position. Jeno screams into the palm of his hand, the other scrapping Jaemin's back red, trying to bring his body closer.

Jaemin doesn't pause, his hips moving in an unrelenting pace until all he can hear is the sound of skin slapping and Jeno's screams, barely muffled by his hands, his body tense under his fingertips.

It’s something new, something that he never experienced before – to hold someone down and just fucking give it to him. Jaemin never knew that he had that side, the want burning inside his belly of wrecking Jeno and turn him into a moaning mess unable to do anything else.

Jeno starts to babble something that Jaemin can't make out, the words jumbled together with all the airy noises he lets out. He tries to grab Jaemin by the shoulders and bring him down, but his body trembles so much that Jeno can barely close his hands before his grip slackens. Jaemin slaps his hands away, pining them over his head by the wrists.

"Are you gonna come?" He taunts, voice breaking at the end. There's not enough oxygen going on to his lungs, and his chest is tight, body aching all over.

He wants to fucking ravage Jeno, to make him unable to say anything else but his name.

Jeno whines, hands shaking under Jaemin's grip, desperate for something. He's flushed all over, eyes squeezed shut and panting hard, his lips red and his dick resting and oozing all over his stomach.

"Jeno," Jaemin snaps, teeth grinding together when Jeno clenches down, his legs shaking. "I asked you something."

When he doesn't get an answer, Jaemin starts to slow his movements, but Jeno immediately opens his eyes.

"No! No!" He chokes down on the words, spit running down the corner of his lips. Jeno ruts down hard against Jaemin, willing him to continue his movements. _“Don’t stop–”_

Jaemin gets back into a steady rhythm, hands leaving Jeno's wrist and sliding down; one keeps a hold of his waist while the other cups the side of his neck. Jeno tilts his head to the side, leaning against Jaemin’s touch; with his eyes closed and a fist on his mouth, he sinks his teeth into the flesh to try and stop his noises.

"Do you doubt me, Jeno?" Jaemin asks, a grunt making its way out of his lips. The arousal is burning on the pit of his stomach, and he feels himself getting closer to the edge with every roll of Jeno’s hips, with every breathless moan that leaves Jeno’s mouth. "Look at me. _Hey._ Look." He uses his hand on Jeno's neck to shake him and grab his attention, slightly lifting his head.

Jeno barely opens his eyes, looking at him through a half-lidded gaze, one stray tear running down his cheek as he lets out a loud moan, hands fisting the sheets underneath him.

"Do you fucking doubt me, Jeno?" Jaemin asks again, sweat dripping down his neck.

Jeno shakes his head, shutting his eyes again, body tensing. He’s clenching down so hard, being so tight around his dick, that Jaemin can barely move besides grinding against his ass. 

"Jeno."

" _No! No! No!"_ Jeno sobs, pressing the side of his face against the pillow. "I don't!"

The satisfaction of being the one to bring Jeno to that point, rutting and moaning unabashedly, lights up the heat inside him even more. A high-pitched moan escapes Jaemin’s mouth and he bites down on his lower lip, the pink turning white.

It’s new, everything is new, and he’s on fucking _fire._ Something has been released inside of him, curling around the shadows of his being, licking and tending the heat on the end of his spine.

Jeno whines again, a broken sound ripping its way out of his throat, and Jaemin slides down his hand on Jeno's hips to grab the boy’s aching cock. He needs to only move once before Jeno is sobbing, face pressed tight against the pillow as he comes and comes, spilling all over Jaemin’s fingers. Jeno’s babbling his name, voice wrecked, and he’s clenching down so hard that Jaemin can’t hold back anymore and his own hips stutter, releasing inside Jeno’s ass, movements faltering until he eventually stops, panting hard.

Jeno is shaking on the bed, tremors running down all over his body, and Jaemin barely pulls out before his body decides to give up on him and he lays down on his side, the echo of Jeno's pleasured screams still ringing into his ears minutes later.

The air feels thick inside the room as Jaemin struggles to regain his breath back. It almost feels like he's floating inside his own body, unable to find something to ground him back to earth.

When he opens his eyes – which he didn't even realize he had closed – Jeno is watching him with a dazed expression on his face, his lips bitten raw.

Jeno giggles when they exchange glances, rubbing at his eyes with the palm of his hand. "Oh my god," he says, voice raspy. "Oh my god."

Jaemin understands the feeling well.

He finds himself uncertain of what to do next, now that he's discovered and unleashed this side of him he never knew before. He clears his throat and grimaces when he remembers that there's drying cum on his hand. "I…"

Jeno releases a deep breath, body sagging against the mattress, eyes focused on the ceiling. "I want to be in," he utters, slicing the silence between them. "I want to be in but I fear I don’t have much space when you and Renjun already share so much history." It's a heavy topic for an afterglow, but Jaemin forces himself to listen, propping up on an elbow. "But I still _want to._ Can I? Do you promise this isn't just an elaborate plan of yours to cast me off? Can I hope of being a part of you both?"

Jaemin licks his lips. It'd be entirely easy to end Jeno here when he's so defenseless and vulnerable. Maybe he would have done that before. Maybe he wouldn't have even hesitated. But now–now Renjun seems to be a little attached. _He_ might be getting attached.

It’s a different scenario.

“Yeah… I–” 

He still struggles. It almost feels like he’s betraying a part of himself for trying to say that. There’s still a dark, jagged creature inside him, ready to chomp off Jeno’s outstretched hand. Part of him wants to keep Renjun all to himself and away from prying eyes–but the other part of him, the one who had a taste of Jeno, the one who felt how it was to hold the power in his hands and have someone crumbling in front of him, rejoices with the idea.

So he breathes in and nods his head. His voice comes out weaker than he’d like, an airy “Yes, you can,” gracing their ears. But it’s out there in the open.

After everything, that’s the conclusion.

It’s not like he hadn’t been trying with Jeno before, trying to accept and integrate him, but they all have too many silent issues and doubts tucked within themselves. And now… there’s nothing else he can hide behind. No pretext, no implied agreement, no more lying to oneself.

Jeno smiles a little, his eyes crinkling at the corner. Jaemin watches him. It won’t be easy, he knows that. He can feel the struggle inside him, but that’s what he ultimately chose.

After years of devotion to one man, it feels weird to gaze at another one on a bed and know that he won’t be dying that night. That man is staying and Jaemin accepted him.

They stay there, basking in the glow. After a while, Jeno starts to squirm a little, and Jaemin suddenly remembers everything that Renjun does with him when he’s too dazed and out of touch with reality to even move, so he searches for some tissues around the room and gives it to Jeno.

It’s an unfamiliar role that one–of caring for another person.

Jeno is starting to doze off by his side, Jaemin too occupied with his many thoughts (trying not to have another breakdown) when Renjun walks inside the room and stops in his tracks. He looks at them in the bed with narrowed eyes, Jeno stirring with the noise of the door closing, and stays standing with his back against the dark wood.

It’s silent for a while and Jaemin can only hear the increasing thrumming of his heart in his ears, his body flooding with warmth at the sight of Renjun. It’s something automatic. He craves Renjun too much.

“Okay,” Renjun says slowly, his words laced with caution. There’s only so much you can imagine it happened when there are two bare bodies on a bed and one of them is still a little flushed. “What happened?”

Jaemin instantly smiles a little, the corner of his lips curling up. It’s like a switch was flipped as soon as Renjun appeared. Everything that he was, everything that had consumed his body with Jeno, vanished and was replaced with the need of feeling Renjun’s touch, Renjun’s mouth, Renjun’s gaze, everything he could offer. He could never have enough of him.

So Jaemin chews his lower lip a little before replying, words carefully picked out. “Showed him his place.” He grips Jeno’s arms, fingers digging a little too much on the flesh, and Jeno squirms. “Fucked his fears and doubts away. He won’t go anywhere, right, Jen?”

Jeno colors under Renjun’s stare, the tip of his ears flushing red. And when Renjun turns to look at Jaemin, his eyes fierce and mouth in a tight line, Jaemin can feel the tension assembling under his skin, a flicker on the end of his spine that spreads through his body. Renjun is something else. Only one look and Jaemin’s already shivering, anticipating what he’s going to do with him, because Jaemin _knows_ that Renjun won’t let this slip away.

In a leisurely manner, Renjun walks around his room and takes off his jacket, putting it away. He throws his bag onto the armchair, walks to his desk and pushes a few empty teacups aside with what it seems to be no hurry in his movements.

Jaemin watches him, waiting, hungry.

“You’re getting so bratty these days, darling,” Renjun comments. He fixes some things that are upon his desk and lights up a few of the scented candles that he likes, cranking out a bit of the window. “Fucking our pretty Jen in _my_ bed? When I’m not even here?” He sighs. “You’re going to end up breaking my heart if you continue like this.”

Jeno swallows audibly next to him, shifting on the bed. Jaemin’s almost thrumming off his skin in excitement while he keeps looking at Renjun who’s taking his sweet time to take his clothes off, folding them neatly.

“Are you doing this on purpose? Do you want some attention?” Renjun asks, settling down at the end of the bed, stark naked and unashamed, his cock already half-hard. “I wonder why you thought you could do this. Did I ever make you think you could just go and fuck Jeno first? Did I ever say that?”

Jaemin shakes his head, fingers twitching around the sheets.

“Then why do you act like this? Robbing me of my opportunity? Just because you suddenly like to order someone around you think you can do this? _Tsc._ Jaeminnie, do you think you’re all up in the food chain now?”

Jaemin can’t reply, his voice dead inside his chest. His heart beats so fast that Renjun must be hearing where he stands, Jaemin is sure of that.

Renjun places a warm hand around his ankle, his voice saccharine sweet as he says, “Come, darling.”

Just with one look and Renjun can read his deepest desires, can unveil him completely. He helps Jaemin move around, settling on all fours, while he hums from deep inside his chest as he grips the flesh of Jaemin’s ass, squeezing hard enough to leave the mark of his fingers on the soft skin.

Jaemin can feel his body shaking just with that, the anticipation making his stomach turn and his throat dry. One of Renjun’s hand slides up to the end of his tailbone, a heavy weight that makes his nerves flare up even more. 

“I’ll remind you of where _your_ place is, then.”

Renjun opens him slowly – too slowly –, his movements methodical and unhurried, avoiding all his good spots until he deems it’s good enough. He slips inside with no preamble, fingers holding his hips tight and Jaemin moans, fisting the sheets below him in a deathly grip. By his side, Jeno watches wide-eyed, a flush going down his neck to his chest.

Renjun slides one of his hands up his back, heated palm running over his spine until he fists the back of Jaemin’s head, hair messy between his fingers, and pulls. Jaemin hisses with the sudden feel of pain, thighs shaking and unconsciously moving to close, but Renjun hitches Jaemin’s hips up and slips closer, forcing him to keep his legs apart as he pounds into the tight heat around him.

Jaemin is panting hard, barely aware of the whines that tumble out from his lips. The only thing he can do is thrust back at Renjun’s hips, trying to force his eyes to stay open and focused on Jeno who’s biting his bottom lip so hard that it’s close to drawing blood. Jeno’s look now is the opposite of what it was before – instead of the dazed gaze with the tears brimming in his eyes, he looks directly at them, eyes wide and drinking every move.

There’s nothing merciless in Renjun’s rhythm, the sound of skin slapping loud and aggressive in the room. He pulls Jaemin’s hair again, making him arch his back and choke on a moan, the words dying on his tongue before he can even spit them all out.

_“Jun–”_

It’s fucking humiliating being fucked like this in front of Jeno, being turned into an unmoving moaning mess when _he_ had been the one giving the orders before, pounding into Jeno’s body. But Renjun snaps his hips again, burying himself to the hilt, and Jaemin loses the strength in his arms, falling flat on the bed and whining loudly.

Renjun lets go of his hair to hold his hips up and doesn’t stop. Jaemin burns with the new angle, his back so curved it makes his muscles ache, but it’s good, it’s too good to even think about stopping.

He’s drooling on the mattress, face pressed to the sheets as his throat burns with all the whines that are being ripped out from him, his voice echoing in his ears together with Renjun’s grunts behind him, his bony hips slamming against his ass.

When he gathers enough strength to turn his head to the side, Jaemin sees Jeno fisting his dick in quick movements, his eyes trained on Renjun. But then Jeno looks away from Renjun’s body for a moment and catches his eyes, and Jaemin screams into the sheets, shame and humiliation bubbling in the pit of his stomach and he loves it, loves it so much that it pushes him closer to the edge even faster.

 _Look at me_ , he wants to say but can’t make anything come out from his mouth besides high-pitched moans and sobs, chin wet with his spit. _Look at the power that Renjun has and what he can do._

There’s a hand back at his hair, pulling his head up from where he had buried his face into the sheets. Jaemin catches the silent order, lifting his head to look at Jeno again, supporting his weight on his elbows; Jeno is gasping silently, the muscles on his stomach contracting as he moves his hand quickly over his dick, only breathy sounds coming out of him.

Renjun pounds at him so hard, his cock hitting just the right spot, that Jaemin falls flat on his stomach again, thighs quivering.

“Jun–babe, babe…”

One of Renjun’s hand sneaks to his front and fists his dick, his movements jerky. Jaemin sobs, pleads, begs, just _somethingsomethingsomething–_

“Look,” Renjun grunts. Jaemin doesn’t know with whom he’s talking, but he lifts his eyes and sees Jeno furiously jerking himself off with the scene in front of him until come splatters over his stomach and chest, a moan spilling out of his lips.

Renjun knows Jaemin and his body so well that he only needs to twist his hand once and Jaemin is coming, sobbing against the sheets, body being set aflame and trembling, clenching down around Renjun's cock hard enough to hurt.

He barely has time to catch his breath before Renjun is turning him on his back, wiping the cum on his hand over Jaemin’s stomach. There are tears in his eyes but Jaemin can see Renjun clearly as he crawls over his body and settles down on his chest, one hand around his dick. 

Renjun’s free hand cradle Jaemin’s chin, thumb swiping over his bitten bottom lip before he tugs it down.

“Open up,” he says and Jaemin obeys.

He comes back around later, blinking open heavy lids and struggling to swallow, his mouth is dry, and his throat feels parched. The first thing he sees are the candles on the desk, still burning, but almost finished. The sound of crickets comes from the open window and Jaemin realizes that the night had fallen when he was out.

It takes a lot of him just to move and turn around, his body aching all over and a soreness spreading through his backside. Jaemin loves it, loves the burning, loves the reminder that will stay with him for a few days because of Renjun.

He finishes moving and chokes on his own spit, body freezing with the scene in front of him. For a moment, he can't hear anything but the loud thundering of his own heart, but then wet noises grace his hearing and warmth pools in his guts.

There's nothing more alluring than Renjun in his element, holding someone in his hand, with his eyes ablaze and movements deliberated, every single move calculated and _right._ Renjun cups Jeno's chin, sitting on his lap, and devours the boy's lips with no mercy, teeth nibbling his lips and tongue licking inside his mouth.

Jaemin is too fucking exhausted to do anything but watch Renjun turn Jeno into a moaning mess under his fingers with just a few flicks here, a few tugs there, and a swipe of his tongue. Jaemin is trapped and he watches, entranced, Renjun slip inside Jeno, his thrusts slow and deep, a contrast from earlier.

The burning candles licks Renjun's skin golden and Jaemin inhales sharply, following the movements of sweat dribbling down his neck, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

Renjun puts him to fucking shame, fucking Jeno so deep, so intensely, that it renders the boy speechless and Jeno can only pant heavily, chest flushed red and cock laying on his stomach.

There's no way he can even come close to Renjun, can even think of comparing himself to him, and Jaemin feels a tremor running through his body. If he concentrated enough, it's like he could almost feel the ghost of Renjun's touch upon his heated skin.

Renjun burns and glows right in front of his eyes, face flushed and eyes fierce, fingers leaving his marks on Jeno's soft skin where it would later blossom into bruises. He's so pretty, so fucking pretty, that Jaemin can't ever look away. It's something ingrained inside of him, something that makes him want to drop to his knees and worship him, to fill his entire being in every way possible with only Renjun, breath him in so he'd never be without him.

The need consumes him entirely and it's there–it's always there. It's been part of him for a long time. He craves and needs and wants Renjun like nothing else in his entire existence, and Renjun only needs to spare him a single glance, looking away from Jeno's face for only a second, and Jaemin is coming untouched all over his belly just with Renjun's heated gaze upon him.

It's too much, too much in too little time, and his body can't handle everything that's happening. Jaemin sags against the sheets, barely hearing Jeno's gasp and Renjun's voice saying something, his tone helping to lull him into somewhere far away and out of touch with reality.

He doesn't know if his eyes are open or closed, but there are fingers brushing over his cheeks and something wet against his skin, and Jaemin sees blurred images around him, so he imagines he must be trying to open his eyes, but it's too hard in the moment, it's too hard to stay awake and aware of his surroundings when his own body is sinking down on the mattress and falling into the unknown.

He barely hears the voices and feels the prodding of hands, something soft involving him, before he's out again.

* * *

It’s a rare day where the sun is shining bright, and because Jeno is a creature of the sun, they’re in one of the picnic tables close to the Sports field.

Jeno has his head tipped back, basking into the sun’s rays, while Jaemin feels like he’s the total opposite, sitting on the far end of the bench, in a small section that was secured from the sun by the shade of the trees. 

Renjun was just doing his own thing, sitting across from Jeno, and with a book splayed open on the table, the pages yellow with age and full of random words scribbled between the lines. But the book had been left unattended for a while, Renjun busy with a trapped ladybug under a glass cup, moving the glass around the surface of the table.

It had been a good day. A good week, actually. Jaemin had even attended one of his classes, surprising the professor who didn’t know he was one of his students. Jeno was too busy with his major and practices, and Renjun had got sucked in into another obscure obsession that made the pile of expensive books in his bedroom grow even bigger, leaving Jaemin bored, _too_ bored. Bored enough to attend his classes.

But it had been good. Things seemed to be starting to look up, the promise of the end of the semester making him slightly agitated.

“ _Jeno.”_ A voice sounds from behind him and Jaemin doesn’t need to turn to know who it is, recognizing that voice instantly. _Donghyuck._ Still, he turns and immediately glares at the boy who’s squirming in place, eyes flittering between them all until he focuses only on Jeno. “Can we talk?”

There’s an edge on his voice, something desperate leaking out, and Jaemin fights the urge of clenching his fists and baring his teeth. Donghyuck is a fucking menace in his life and he doesn’t seem to ever _stop._

A brief pause hangs upon them before Jeno sighs a little, his voice trembling a little around the words, “What is it, Hyuck?”

When Jaemin turns to look at him, Jeno is biting his lower lip, a furrow on his brow, but his hands are splayed open over the table and he’s not shaking. Renjun seems to be bored, almost as if unaware of what’s happening around him, still dragging the glass – and the ladybug – all over the wooden surface, resting his chin in the palm of one hand.

Donghyuck exhales. “Can we talk… in private? Please?”

But Jeno shakes his head a little and Jaemin feels something fluttering inside his chest as he catches Jeno’s eyes.

“It’s okay, Hyuck. You can just say what it is.” Jeno’s voice is soft, but there’s something underneath it, lacing the words with something heavy. “There’s no problem.”

Jaemin sees the twitch of the corner of Renjun’s lips, and he knows that Renjun also _gets it._ That’s the breaking point, the moment where Jeno takes the final leap into their arms.

Donghyuck shakingly breathes out again and Jaemin turns to look back at him. He knows what Donghyuck is seeing in front of him, the weight of his lost settling in, choking him up. It doesn’t matter what he does or says anymore, Jeno is making clear where he stands, his voice as gentle as ever but his neck all marked. Claimed.

Jaemin smiles – a grin with too many teeth and bright eyes. And Donghyuck only glares at him, his eyes sunken and sullen, mouth pressed down in a tight line. He’s lost again.

A loud noise comes from the end of the table, Renjun smashing the ladybug with the other side of the cup. Jeno doesn’t even flinch.

* * *

The bright and colorful lights make his eyes hurt, but Jaemin doesn’t turn his gaze away. He can’t. Renjun is dancing ahead of them, already in his little zone, doing what he knows best–seducing someone to decide his fate later. He moves his hips in a slow rhythm, grinding against some random boy’s crotch, and Jaemin swallows dry.

It burns. Everything in him is set aflame. He wants to be the one grinding against Renjun, wants to keep watching him from a distance, wants to be the alcohol he ingests. He wants everything and he’s burning. He always is when it’s about him.

Jeno inhales sharply by his side when Renjun turns around and rolls his hips down against a leg between his thighs.

“Relax,” Jaemin says. He takes a look at Jeno, but he’s staring daggers at the pair, his fingers gripping tight the beer can in his hand, anger and jealousy emanating from him in thick waves.

Jeno doesn’t reply. He lifts the can to his lips and gulps the drink down. Jaemin watches his Adam’s apple moving, his throat swallowing, the veins of his neck pulsing to the beat of the song, and Jaemin sinks his mouth into the skin, licking a stripe to his jawline and nipping at the skin there. He pulls back and Jeno’s looking wide-eyed at him, the can paused halfway between his lips, arm still in the air.

His mouth feels salty because of his sweat, so Jaemin licks the lip gloss of his own lips, smacking them together after.

“I don’t like it,” Jeno mumbles. He puts down the beer can on the floor and steps hard on the metal, noise drowned by the thundering music.

Jaemin can barely hear him with all the noise, and he doesn’t care about Jeno’s little temper tantrum. He’s new, he’ll learn. Renjun rolls his hips a little stronger and holds the back of the boy’s neck, bringing him down to slot their lips together. Jaemin swallows, feeling the ghost of Renjun’s touch on his skin. He wants it so much that it brings tears to his eyes.

“Keep the anger,” he tells Jeno, mouth against his ear, eyeing the boy’s wandering hands. Renjun could play however much he wanted but _that_ guy had no permission to touch him. The jealousy tastes bitter on his tongue and he licks more of his lip gloss. “So you can use it later. It helps a lot.”

 _It helps a lot._ It does. It always does.

Later, Jeno strikes the boy down with a one well-placed hit on the back of his head, the shovel held tight in his fist. Jaemin can’t help but smile at seeing the scene–it’s so cliché using a shovel, hidden by the darkness of the night, the forest trees swaying around them in their little dances. It’s cliché but it’s Jeno, and Jaemin knows he’ll write about it later, using so many metaphors that he won’t get it at first until Jeno explains word by word to him.

It’s cliché, and it’s Jeno, and it’s Renjun. Jaemin scratches Jeno’s nape and watches with him, in silence, as the blood pools around the unconscious body on the floor. He’s still alive. Jaemin can see his chest going up and down, but it won’t stay like this for longer. Jeno’s still shaking a little under his fingertips, but he doesn’t recoil from the sight. 

Renjun comes back from behind them and kneels next to the body, opening the bag he’d brought with him.

Jaemin watches from afar with Jeno, sitting down upon the dead leaves, close together. The alcohol makes his head spin and he’s stealing Jeno’s warmth away, trying to make him stop shaking. He doesn’t feel the pain of Jeno’s fingers digging on his skin, but he knows he’ll see the bruises later and he can’t wait for it. In silence, they watch Renjun do whatever he wants to.

Maybe it takes long, maybe it doesn’t. Jaemin has no idea how time works when he’s with them, only caring about the burning and aching inside him. But Renjun is smiling and has a glint in his eyes, blood smeared on his cheek. Jaemin hopes it’s his own blood. He can’t stand when he tastes someone else on Renjun besides them both. And Jeno. Now Jeno too.

Renjun wipes the blood away and Jaemin breaths deep, sagging down against Jeno’s warm body. Though blood doesn’t faze Jeno that much anymore, he still gets squeamish when it gets past that. Renjun is always so pretty, so enticing, so otherworldly. Jaemin could stare at him for hours and hours and hours, and it would never be enough. He wants to engrave the sight of him, his essence, in every part of his being so he could never, ever forget him.

Jeno sighs next to him, fingers relaxing a little his tight grip, and Jaemin enlaces their hands together. He knows Jeno will get there too one day and they’ll all be perfect together. He’s still learning.

* * *

Jeno’s heartbeat is steady and strong under the tip of his fingers, and Jaemin marvels at how it increases quickly with a well-placed touch or a brush of lips. It’s interesting. And Jeno just lets him – lets him explore the expanse of his chest, to run down across his ribs until the top of his thighs, the touch light and innocent enough.

Every day there’s something new to learn and he watches curiously as to how Jeno evolves and blossoms.

The moment is broken with Renjun walking inside the room, the door slamming loudly behind him. He looks frenzied and that’s enough for Jaemin to sit up, ice running through his veins.

“Pack your things. We’re going.” Renjun’s voice is final and there’s an edge on his tone.

Jaemin blinks in surprise. “What?”

Renjun’s moving fast inside the room, in a hurry never seen before on him. He drags a suitcase from inside his wardrobe, dumping it on the floor and shoving things inside it with no hesitation.

He doesn’t even look at them when he talks, dropping books inside the suitcase, grabbing things from his desk. “A body was found inside the forest and the police were called. We’ll just go somewhere else for now.”

It’s there, hidden underneath his words. _There’s something incriminating. We can’t stay and play with them this time. Too risky._ And Jaemin understands it clearly, so he jumps out from bed, grabbing his clothes strewn around the floor, shoving them into Renjun’s baggage. Most of his things are in Renjun’s place, but he’ll need to go back to his room and see if there’s anything he needs to grab there, to see if he’s not leaving behind anything of importance.

Jaemin blows off the candles and stumbles into the armchair, swearing out loud when he drops a stack of Renjun’s books on his foot.

“Fuck!”

Renjun’s too busy ripping apart the drawers in his desk, pieces of papers flying around him, but Jaemin stops in place when he sees Jeno still in bed, unmoving.

There’s a sharp pain on the side of his ribs and Jaemin swallows the unease down. “Aren’t you coming, Jeno?”

That makes Renjun stop. He lowers his hand, fist full of scraps of paper. The silence is thick and suffocating in the room. Renjun doesn’t say anything and lets Jeno struggle on his own. Jaemin looks at him wide-eyed, silently begging him to make a move.

“I… I…”

Jeno bites his lower lip hard, eyes flittering between them both. That’s the end, right? The final decision. Jeno might have dirtied his hand with some blood, but it hadn’t been in the same intensity as them. Jaemin wonders if Donghyuck is behind that, and if he would spare Jeno if they all were caught.

Jaemin looks down and grabs the books. When he gets up, Jeno hasn’t moved. A look to the side shows him that Renjun is still waiting, but it won’t be for long. They don’t have enough time. His heart sinks a little inside his chest with Jeno’s silence.

A thought flickers inside his mind, something dark uncurling from it and spreading cold through his body. He wonders if Jeno would have such a good end as Jaemin’s own demise would be. He wonders if Renjun ever promised him something like that.

And then Jeno exhales heavily. “Y-yes… I’ll go pack.”

The relief is so intense that it makes Jaemin cough a little and his eyes sting. He feels so surprised by his own reactions that he turns around and starts shoving things inside Renjun’s suitcase, trying to calm himself down.

He hears the sound of sheets rustling and then of steps on the floor, the door creaking open. 

“Hurry, sweetheart.”

A pause. Jaemin can see clearly in his mind Jeno going red in the face, but before he can check if it really happened, the door closes.

A jacket fall from his fingers into the mess of things inside the suitcase and Renjun chuckles a little, padding to his side, shoulders less tense than they were before. It’s a kind of claim from Renjun’s part, and Jaemin wishes he could know how Jeno is feeling right now with it.

“Did he blush?”

Renjun nods. “It’s prompt for him, isn’t it? He _does_ have a sweet heart, untainted.”

Jaemin nibbles his bottom lip. “And I don’t?” He challenges, but there’s something playful coloring the words. He knows his heart could never compare with the pureness Jeno held within himself. It makes his chest ache just thinking about ruining him, a lick of arousal burning in his guts.

Renjun tilts his head a little to the side, dark eyes holding him in place. Jaemin had lost the game before it had even started, and he sighs when Renjun gets closer, goosebumps spreading across his skin.

“You have such a dirty mouth and mind,” Renjun says. He taps the tip of Jaemin’s nose, his lips curling in a small smile. “You’re a brat and so fucking selfish, and sometimes you make me almost lose my mind.” Renjun cups his cheek, thumb caressing the skin there. “And that’s why you were the first who got to live and stay.”

Jaemin sighs and melts with Renjun’s touch, leaning against the warm palm on his face. It blooms and enwraps his insides in such a vicious grip that it leaves him breathless.

“I love you,” Jaemin mumbles against Renjun’s lips, licking and biting over his lower lip until Renjun allows his tongue inside.

Jaemin kisses him deeply, wanting to convey everything he ever felt, but mindful of the clock ticking against them. He runs out of air quickly, but it doesn’t matter, because that’s where one day he’d probably go, and being in Renjun’s embrace, feeling him around him, always felt like heaven.

  
  
  
  


(He imagined something movie-like.

Maybe some sirens, and a car chase in an empty highway, bullets raining down around them. But money is what controls the world and Renjun is full of it, so they just drive down to the airport and Renjun’s private jet is already there, having only needed to make a phone call.

Jeno’s hands shake in his grip from the moment they first laid their eyes on the jet and all the way inside, momentarily pulling off to grip at the armrests. It’s obvious it’s his first time.

Renjun sags down against the seat across from Jeno, pulling an eyepatch from his pocket and putting it over his head. Jaemin leans down to kiss him before seating next to Jeno who enlaces their hands together, watching curiously through the window as he holds the armrest for dear life, knuckles turning white.

Jaemin bites down on a chuckle, resting his head on Jeno’s shoulder. Across from him, Renjun stifles a yawn and covers his eyes with the eyepatch, the cuff of his sleeve still wet with scarlet droplets. Jaemin makes a mental note of reminding him later about it.

He licks his chapped lips and can almost still taste the blood from Renjun’s mouth.)

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh do u ever procrastinate writing your fic by starting and finishing another wip? heh  
> so.....uh....this really ended up a lot longer than what i first imagined but....you know. it just happens sometimes ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> also i finally stopped being a cryptid and u can find me on [twt](https://twitter.com/pinkhrj) | [ccat](https://curiouscat.me/rensungie) !!


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